The Girl Who Was Chosen
by Natural-Territory
Summary: Why can Madeleine Potter do such strange things at times? Because she's a witch, of course! Join fem!Slytherin!not dark!Harry as she discovers an endless box, her own powers, and, soon, the Wizarding world. Featuring girl!Harry, meaner!Uncle Vernon, nicer!Aunt Petunia, Millie Bulstrode, Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass, and less Slytherin favouritism by Snape. Slight language.
1. The Zoo

**Yes a new story. I couldn't help it. Muse is evil :(**

**Okay, so, I'm telling you all right now that this story is a girl!Slytherin!Not Dark!Harry story. I listed the characters as Harry Potter and Tracey Davis, because she will be one of Madeleine's friends. I will accept no hate for doing this; it's perfectly valid sense Madeleine is the female version of Harry (even though she is very different, she's also similar in some ways) and I'm sick of people sending me flames because they can't read.**

**Any questions about pairings, future plot, etc? Message me. I won't put it up here because some people may not want to know early.**

**Enjoy!**

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CHAPTER THE FIRST: THE ZOO

It smelled like mould, dirt, and stale air in the cupboard where Madeleine slept, but she was used to it after almost nine years. Yes, it may sound hard to believe, but this young girl really did live in the closet under the stairs. It wasn't because there weren't any other rooms left in the house or because she chose too – it was simply because her aunt and uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, along with their dreadful son Dudley, hated her.

Madeleine Potter had been left at the doorstep of her relatives' house when she was still a baby, after her parents had died. She was never sure why the Dursleys had kept her; personally, she felt sometimes that she would be better off in an orphanage. She was forced to cook most of the meals, clean almost all of the house, do all the particularly difficult chores like mowing the yard, painting the fence, scrubbing the floors, and other such nasty, difficult things, but even all that would have been manageable if her Uncle Vernon, her Aunt Petunia, and her cousin, Dudley, weren't so very horrible to her.

"WAKE UP!" yelled Madeleine's aunt through the metal grate on her cupboard door, startling the young girl out of a particularly nice dream. "GET UP RIGHT NOW, YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!"

Madeleine groaned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. The clock behind her (once her cousin's; Madeleine had nicked it from the rubbish bin when he, inevitably, broke it, and had repaired it herself) read 6:00AM.

"Ugh," Madeleine moaned quietly. "Why so early?"

"UP!" Petunia screeched, apparently not having heard her niece or simply choosing to ignore her. Madeleine could hear the clip–clop of her shoes as she went back into the kitchen, and the young girl reluctantly climbed out from under the covers. She knew what would happen if she didn't move quickly.

She had been dreaming about a giant flying motorbike, a dream she had had before. In fact, it was illustrated on her wall. Though the cupboard was small – seven feet by three – it held a decent amount of things. Of course, these things were Madeleine's only possessions in the world.

There was the cot Madeleine slept out, and on top of it was an old red and white striped blanket (frayed and clumsily patched), a matching pillow, and another pillow, smaller and silk, that was white and had been left with Madeleine when she was put on the Dursley's doorstep. Behind that was a short shelf that held the repaired alarm clock with the aforementioned picture hung above it, and on the left wall was a slightly longer shelf that held several knick–knacks Madeleine had found – army men, pens, rocks, a notebook, buttons, dried flowers, several small, half–broken toys, and a rag doll she had made in class. Over that hung two pictures she had drawn, one of herself and her parents (both drawn without hair, because Madeleine had no idea what they looked like) and one of her favourite type of flower. Next to these were two papers from her primary school that she was particularly proud of. At the end of her bed was a bean bag chair (also taken from the bin after Dudley ripped it, and repaired with tape), and next to that a large cardboard box that held all of Madeleine's clothes. She had in total one pair of tights, two pairs of socks, three skirts, two pairs of pants, three shirts, two sweaters, two jackets, and two pairs of shoes. Some of this (one pair of the shoes, one shirt, and one skirt) was only for 'fancy' occasions, such as when her aunt had company, and all of it was from a cheap second–hand store. While Madeleine liked most of the things well enough, they all smelled funny and nothing really felt right; it was either too big, too small, too worn, or just itchy.

Lastly, there were a set of shelves on the far wall, just where the stairs sloped down. Though presumably meant for storage, perhaps to hold linens or Christmas decorations, Madeleine utilised the shelves for her things. On the bottom shelf were five worn books Madeleine had managed to rescue from Dudley – Alice in Wonderland, Moby Dick, The Picture of Dorian Grey, Matilda, and James and the Giant Peach. The shelf above that held a Teddy bear and blanket, both things that had been left with Madeleine on the doorstep, and on the very top was Madeleine's prized possession.

It was a wooden keepsake box that Madeleine had never been able to open. Aunt Petunia had told Madeleine when she was five that she it was left to her by her mother, and that if she had any sense at all she had better not let Uncle Vernon ever see it. Madeleine listened.

Strangely, sometimes she thought her aunt might actually care about her. Sometimes, Madeleine caught Petunia looking at her softly. Sometimes, Madeleine saw a tear in her eye when Uncle Vernon hit her for this or that. Sometimes, Petunia even snuck her niece a snack when she had been told she was not allowed to eat for days. But sometimes…

"ARE YOU UP YET?" demanded said aunt, banging on Madeleine's door. The young girl jumped.

"Nearly," Madeleine replied, breaking out of her thoughts.

"Well move, girl!" Petunia said gruffly. "You'd better be in the kitchen and cooking in three minutes, or else! Everything has to be perfect for Dudley's special day!"

Madeleine groaned. _That _was why they were up so early! How could she have forgotten Dudley's birthday?

"What was that?" her aunt demanded.

"Nothing! I'm getting ready, Aunt Petunia!" Madeleine called. She heard her aunt walk away again, and began to dress. Madeleine was rather ordinary looking, or at least she thought so. She had long, tangly red hair, bright green eyes, a square face, a dimpled chin, and thick lips. Her skin was pale, probably from spending most of her time in a cupboard, and she had knobbly knees and elbows.

The thing Madeleine liked the most about her appearance, however, was the lightning–bolt shaped scar on her forehead. She was told she had gotten it in the car crash when her parents had died, and found it very interesting.

Quickly, Madeleine pulled on her favourite outfit; thick orange tights, a grey skirt with small flowers, and a blue jumper. She was still pulling on her shoes when she heard banging on the stairs.

Dudley was awake.

As usual, he stopped right above the area when he knew Madeleine's bed was and began to jump up and down.

"Come on Potter, get up!" he yelled obnoxiously. "We're going to the zoo!"

Madeleine glared at the ceiling as her cousin cackled and ran down the steps, brushing spiders off and opening the door.

She barely dodged Dudley as he went to push her, causing him to stumble into the wall. Before he could do more than glare, Madeleine shot off, giggling, into the kitchen. She didn't look it, but she was fast.

Her aunt glared at her as she entered, only to burst into happy squeals when Dudley followed. While Madeleine began cooking the bacon, Petunia fussed over Dudley. Uncle Vernon soon entered, and barked, "Do something with that ratty hair, girl." Instead of 'good morning', like a polite person might say.

"Stop being so ugly and I will." Madeleine mumbled to herself, grinning slightly at her own joke.

Every few days or so, Uncle Vernon would bark that Madeleine 'must get that nasty hair cut right away!'. Since the Dursleys never spent more than the very minimum amount of money on Madeleine, her aunt always cut her hair. Every time, Petunia would cut her niece's hair just below her ears, ragged and uneven, then make her some lopsided bangs to 'cover that awful scar'. The first few times, Madeleine had hated it. She liked how she looked with long hair, and her scar was rarely visibly anyway. She didn't even want to think about how much more she would be picked on at school if she walked in looking like _that_.

And then the most amazing thing happened. Actually, it happened each time Petunia cut Madeleine's hair.

It would grow back. Simple as that; by the next morning, her hair would be the same length as before, if not longer. Madeleine, personally, thought it was an emotion–fuelled superpower, like the people who can suddenly lift cars off of their children. She hated her haircut so much that her body worked overtime until it was back to normal – that made perfect sense to Madeleine.

While Dudley counted his presents, Madeleine thought with excitement about the day ahead. She couldn't wait to go to the zoo; animals interested her a lot, for one thing, but there was also the fact that no one even thought Madeleine was related to the Dursleys, which was the best inadvertent compliment Madeleine could think of. Every time she went in public with them, when Dudley through a fit because there were no Mars Bars left or Uncle Vernon refused to tip the waitress, everyone looked at Madeleine with pity, as if they assumed she was an outsider who had nothing to do with it. She loved that.

But realistically, the Dursleys and Madeleine looked about as much alike as a scorpion looks like a newborn baby. Aunt Petunia was a skinny woman, with a horse–like face, perfectly shaped hair, and a long neck. Dudley and Uncle Vernon were both huge, with pink skin, hardly any neck, and small, watery eyes. Vernon had a thick handlebar moustache and brown hair, while Dudley had smooth blond hair that lay perfectly on his fat head. Aunt Petunia said Dudley was a little angel. Madeleine said Dudley was an exceptionally large pig with a hair piece.

As Madeleine lay the plates on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room, Dudley finished counting his presents.

"Thirty six." He said, looking at Vernon and Petunia. "That's two less than last year."

_Oh no, _Madeleine thought. She began eating quickly, sensing danger.

"Darling, you haven't counted Aunt Marge's present, see? It's over there under that big one from mummy and daddy."

"All right, thirty–seven then." Dudley said, beginning to go red. Madeleine began to eat even faster.

Petunia obviously saw trouble coming as well, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another _two_ presents while we're out. How's that sweetums? _Two _more presents. That's all right, isn't it?"

Dudley began to think; never an easy task for him. Finally, he said, "So I'll have thirty…thirty…"

"Thirty–nine." Madeleine couldn't help but put in. Really, who couldn't add two to thirty–seven? "You'd have thirty–nine."

Aunt Petunia glared at her, but Dudley said, "Oh! All right then!" happily, and began to open a present.

Madeleine was tempted to mutter something like 'dunderhead' under her breath, but her aunt would hear her, and she didn't want her food taken away; she was hungry.

Uncle Vernon, meanwhile, was chuckling at Dudley.

"Little tyke wants to get his money's worth, just like his father! Atta boy, son!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

Soon, Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss arrived. He was a scrawny thing with a rat–like face. His job in Dudley's gang was to hold people's arms while Dudley hit them. It was Madeleine's greatest ambition in life to give him a good kick.

Half an hour later, they were all in the Dursley's car on the way to the zoo. Just minutes ago, Madeleine's uncle had taken her aside and threatened her…

"I'm warning you now, girl." He said, holding her to wall. "Any funny business, anything at all, and you'll be in that cupboard until Christmas. Understood?"

"I'm not going to do anything!" Madeleine protested, not sure if she should be afraid or angry. "Honestly!"

But Uncle Vernon, surprisingly, didn't believe her.

The car ride in the backseat with Dudley and Piers was like the seventh circle of hell. They were both loud and annoying and loved to pinch and shove her. While they drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. It was one of his favourite things to do. Today, his topic was motorcycles.

"I had a dream about a motorcycle last night!" Madeleine exclaimed. "It was flying."

Uncle Vernon slammed on the breaks, nearly hitting the car in front of them.

"MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!" he roared at Madeleine, as if she stupid enough to really think such a thing.

"I know that! It was only a dream!" Madeleine protested. Personally, she thought her uncle was the stupid one. Everyone knew motorcycles didn't fly! But she still wished she hadn't said anything; the Dursleys hated anything out–of–the–ordinary.

Soon, they were at the zoo, and Madeleine was having the time of her life. The Dursleys had bought her a cheap ice pop at the entrance, and she loved being out of the house. After wandering around for a while, they made it inside to the reptile house. It was cool inside, and Madeleine relaxed for a moment, reading the plaques and admiring the animals.

"Come on, move!" Dudley's loud voice brought Madeleine out of her peaceful thoughts. He was beside her now, with Piers of course, which made sense because Madeleine had been looking at the biggest snake in the place.

Dudley rapped on the glass and yelled again. Madeleine sighed.

_Why can't he just leave him alone? _Madeleine wondered. It was bad enough when he was terrible with her – he didn't even _know _the snake.

"Dad, make it move!" Dudley wined in his father's direction.

Uncle Vernon wandered over and tapped on the glass. The snake didn't move. Dudley banged on it with his fist.

"Leave him alone!" Madeleine snapped, turning to her cousin and glaring. He ignored her, deemed the snake boring, and he and Piers wandered off.

"Sorry about that. I know cousin can be a real ass," Madeleine said to the snake. The snake blinked sleepily and raised its head. It nodded.

Madeleine raised her eyebrows. She didn't know snakes could nod. She glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. They hadn't. So she turned back to the snake.

"You can understand me?" she asked slowly. The snake hissed and nodded again. It glanced at Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then shook its head, as if to say _'I get that all the time'._

"I bet." Madeleine said, wrinkling her nose. "It must be horrible."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"I've never talked to a snake before…" said Madeleine, leaning closer to the glass. "Do you talk to people often?"

The snake shook its head.

"You're from Brazil, right?" she asked, nodding towards the plaque in front of the snake's cage. It nodded again. "Was it nice there? Do you miss your family?"

The snake jabbed its tail at the sign.

"Oh…" Madeleine said. There was a line of text at the bottom she hadn't read: THIS SPECIMEN WAS BRED AT THE ZOO.

"Me too." She said. "I don't remember my parents at all..."

Suddenly, Piers appeared behind her. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! DUDLEY! COME LOOK AT THE SNAKE! QUICK!"

Madeleine let out a cry as she was suddenly pushed hard onto the ground. She winced, seeing her bleeding knee and ripped tights and then glaring up at Dudley as he shouted for his mother and father to come see what the snake was doing. Madeleine was so mad she was shaking. She was sick of Dudley pushing her around like this. She had just as much right as him to see that snake, and Dudley needed to learn sooner or later that he just couldn't shove people out of his way. Something _had _to be done.

Madeleine glared at her cousin. His chubby face was pressed against the glass cage, sneering at the snake, and then something unexpected happened.

The glass vanished.

It was suddenly just completely gone, and Dudley and Piers both fell head over heels into the pool inside the snake cage. They screamed bloody murder as the snake seemed to glare right at them, then slithered out onto the floor.

Madeleine stared with wide eyes as the snake stopped before her.

"Brazzzzzzzzil here I come. Thankssssss, amigo." It hissed.

"A–anytime!" Madeleine said nervously, grinning. The snake slithered for the exit, hissing at people's feet and snapping playfully at their ankles. There was a sudden stampede for the exits as everyone tried to escape from the snake. Meanwhile, Dudley and Piers began to scream and yell yet again, drawing Madeleine's attention back to them, only to see that the glass was back. Petunia and Vernon ran forward, banging on the glass and yelling for Dudley, but Madeleine couldn't help but laugh. Finally, Dudley had gotten some of what was coming for him, and she couldn't bring herself to feel bad for him.

When she glanced back at her aunt and uncle, however, she saw Vernon glaring at her, and realised laughing had been a very big mistake indeed.

After many apologies by the zoo manger and the reptile keeper, they were finally in the car. Piers was soon back at home, Dudley was in a blanket given to them by the zoo, shivering and looking like he was probably scarred for life, and Vernon and Petunia were exchanging grim looks.

When they pulled into Number Four, Petunia and Dudley rushed in, followed by Vernon and Madeleine. Madeleine knew that something very bad was about to happen, and she found she was right when Vernon grabbed her arms and held her to the wall, glaring.

"_What did you do_?" he growled, squeezing her arms so tightly she yelped.

"I didn't do anything, honest!" she cried, her eyes starting to fill with tears from the pain on her arms. Could Uncle Vernon possibly have the strength to break them? She hoped not.

He ignored her, pulling her up closer to his height. All her weight was on her arms now.

"LYING BRAT!" he roared.

Madeleine knew she was supposed to just hang there until her uncle's anger ran out, not defend herself and just let him hurt her, but she just _couldn't_ anymore! She was suddenly realising that she didn't deserve anything the Dursleys did to her – there was nothing wrong with her! All of the sudden, Madeleine couldn't help herself; she began to fight back.

"LET ME GO!" Madeleine yelled, kicking at her uncle's stomach, which was a very easy target, as it was so big. "I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! HOW COULD I MAKE THE GLASS DISSAPEAR ANYWAY, YOU STUPID OAF!"

Vernon was turned even redder than normal, and Madeleine could see a vain on his forehead bulging out. A particularly hard kick got his stomach, and he pulled her off the wall before slamming her back against it, jarring her head but especially hurting her back.

"You nasty, lying, ungrateful brat!" Vernon growled. "You're going to pay for that, girl, you're going to wish you were never born."

Madeleine screamed as the pressure on her arms increased even more, tears running down her face. He slammed her into the wall again, and this time her head hit first. Stars burst under her eyelids, and she groaned in pain.

"I'm not lying!" she managed. She couldn't help but defend herself. "One minute the glass was there, then it was gone! It was like magic!"

"THERE. IS. NO. SUCH. THING. AS. MAGIC!" Vernon roared. He pulled back one huge fist, and Madeleine closed her eyes and braced herself, ready for the hit.

Something CRACKED hard against the wall by her head, and Madeleine opened her eyes just as her uncle howled and dropped her all the way to the floor, cradling his fist in his other hand.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH!" he screamed at Madeleine. Before he could do anything – kick her, most likely – Petunia intervened.

"Vernon, that's enough." She said firmly, putting a hand to his shoulder. "She couldn't have hurt your hand, and you know that. Now let's go and ice that before it swells. I'll lock her in the cupboard."

Vernon's hand must have hurt, because he nodded curtly, sending one last glare at Madeleine, still on the floor, and stomping into the kitchen. Petunia pulled Madeleine surprisingly gently to her feet and guided her to the cupboard. Madeleine was very grateful, and she nearly said so. Once she was sitting on her cot, her aunt glanced around, then whispered, "I'll bring you some ice and a snack later. Now try to rest, dear."

She closed the door, and Madeleine heard the click of the lock, but it didn't really register. She couldn't stop staring at the spot where her aunt had been. Madeleine had never been _given_ ice for her many wounds, though she had snuck it before. Her aunt had given her snacks when she was denied food on more than one occasion, but had never _offered_ to. Petunia had never before cared if Madeleine was rested or not. But the most shocking part of her aunt's words was the last one – 'dear'. Petunia had never called her niece 'dear' before, or anything like it.

Maybe…maybe her aunt did love her after all, Madeleine thought. Just a little bit.

But still, Madeleine's head hurt, and her back hurt, and of course her arms hurt. She lay back against her striped pillow, holding her little pillow to her face and crying from the pain while at the same time wondering how her uncle could have missed when he was a mere two feet from her. All of the sudden, she heard a quiet click.

Madeleine opened her eyes and looked for the source of the noise. At first, nothing really looked out of place in her cupboard. Her first thought was that maybe one of her army–men had fallen off the shelf, but they were all in their spots.

"OH!" Madeleine cried, jumping up. It was the chest from her mother – the one she had never been able to open. The lid was sticking up.

Madeleine scrambled for the shelf, grabbing the box and pulling it down into her lap. The first thing she saw inside was a piece of paper with notes scribbled on it in a looping handwriting:

_**Madeleine**__ (the pronunciation mad–ah–line; meaning strong) __**Lily**__ (after me; meaning innocence, purity, beauty) __**Jamesina**__ (after her father, meaning one who supplants) __**Potter**_

It was written on a piece of stationary decorated with lilies. One of the few things Madeleine knew about her parents were that their names had been Lily and James – that meant that this letter must have been written by her mother.

She ran her fingers over it gently. Madeleine had never known her middle name – or apparently, names – until now.

"Madeleine Lily Jamesina Potter." Madeleine said aloud to herself. It sounded nice, she thought. And even better, it was after her parents.

But there was more in the box. Much more, in fact. As Madeleine pulled item after item from the chest, her eyes grew wider – how did it all _fit_? The chest looked – from the outside at least – to be about a foot long and four or five inches deep. But there were _dozens _and _dozens_ of things in here, all with a little note explaining about them.

The first thing Madeleine pulled out was a necklace. It had a silver chair, several clear stones, two silver metal flowers, one silver gemstone-shaped pendant, and a silver locket with pictures inside. The pictures, Madeleine noticed with awe, were of three people – a black–haired man, a red–haired woman, and a small baby. This, Madeleine realised, must be herself and her parents.

The note attached read as follows:

_Picked out by myself before I was even pregnant with Madeleine. The picture is of myself, James, and Madeleine when she was four months old. Taken by Remus. _

Placing the locket and the note carefully in her lap, Madeleine picked out the next thing in the box. It was a bracelet covered with charms, and so was the next item, Madeleine found quickly. The charms varied from a doe to a maple leaf to a key to a baby carriage, and there were about twenty per bracelet. The first, which contained the key and baby carriage, among other things, had a note that read:

_**This bracelet was picked out by Lily for Madeleine. Most charms were picked by Lily, but some were sent from friends.**_

The other bracelets tag read:

_This was mine from when I was a young, given to me by my parents when I started at Hogwarts._

Madeleine smiled – know she knew where her mother had gone to school as well! _What a strange name,_ she thought, adding the bracelets to the pile on her lap, and grabbed the next thing. It was a ring. The band was silver, and there was a pendant edged with copper with a white flower in the middle, the glass around it cut like a gemstone and coloured a lovely shade of green.

_Given to me in fifth year by James, _the note read.

Adding that to the pile with a grin, Madeleine continued searching. The next item was an old–fashioned hair pin with eleven tiers sticking out, all with a small diamonds (or what looked like diamonds) at the end. The note attached to this read:

_Given to me by my grandmother; was originally my great–great grandmothers._

Next were two wrist watches, one silver and quite old–looking (the card said it was made in 1870), and the other more modern–looking; the back read MADE IN 1960. Both had belonged to her mother, and, in the case of the older watch, her grandmother and great–grandmother before that. The both had metal bands and were very nice–looking. The four things after that seemed to be a set; all gold–based jewellery, the card explained that they were for special occasions, like parties or balls, and had belonged to her mother as well. There was a ring, a bracelet, a necklace, and a hair clip. The ring was an ornate gold poison ring with a small turquoise stone in the middle. The bracelet was a cuff–style with a very, very elaborate flower pattern accented with diamonds, turquoise, emerald, and rubies. The necklace had a chain accented with diamonds near the pendant, which was a ruby surrounded by small diamonds. Lastly, the hair clip had six rows of eleven stones each; the first row was blue stones of all sizes and shapes, and the rest the same but in brown, green, red, topaz, and pink respectively.

Next was a pink hair ribbon accented by plain white lace. It was very soft, and apparently had belonged to her mother since she was a little girl. After the ribbon came a brush and mirror set with gilded handles and pink and white flowers painted on the backs. Madeleine had never had her own brush before…

Then there were three porcelain dolls that had been her mother's when she was a child, and after that a beautiful leather–bound journal that Madeleine's father had had made for her while her mother was still pregnant with her. After the journal was a handsome leather purse, and then came the flood.

Madeleine found herself pulling out clothing item after clothing item – shoes, shirts, jackets, skirts, dressed, sweaters, and pants. In total, she found there were five pairs of shoes, a jacket, four sweaters, eight blouses, four skirts, five dresses, and two pairs of jeans. It wasn't an excessive amount; Madeleine had cleaned her aunt and uncle's closet, and they owned at least twice that each. But all of it was soft and lovely and smelled familiar. Madeleine couldn't help but hold the clothes to her nose and imagine this was what her parent's house had smelled like. Only two of the things, she could tell, wouldn't fit her – a beautiful pink dress, vintage, with a lacy ruffled top, and a pair of Victorian–styled white boots. The tag on those explained her mother had worn them when she was fifteen, and Madeleine promised herself that she'd take care of them at least until she was that old so she could wear them as well. Everything else, she soon found out, was either just her size or a bit big. She tried it all on, excited to start wearing some of the things (in small doses, of course, so the Dursleys wouldn't get suspicious), and feeling closer to her parents than ever.

Madeleine set out a few of the things, just to have them nearby. One of the shirts, a simple striped thing that was worn but very snug and soft, a pair of very used loafers that were comfortable, with creases from wear and stained laces, the journal, the first charm bracelet, the newer watch, and one of the dolls, which she curled up with under her blanket after packing everything else away carefully.

Even though her head still ached dully and there were vibrant bruises on her arms, Madeleine found herself feeling happier than ever as she drifted off to sleep.


	2. A Strange Letter

**Thanks to everyone who followed and favourited! Please review if you can; I want to know what people think about the things I've changed and about Madeleine in general.**

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CHAPTER THE SECOND: A STRANGE LETTER

True to her word, Aunt Petunia _had_ brought Madeleine some ice, as well as a large sandwich, and a cup of water. This kindness in itself was almost enough to make Madeleine's longest cupboard–punishment ever worth it. By the time she was let out, the summer holidays had started and her cousin had already broken his new camera, crashed his remote–controlled airplane, and knocked poor old Miss Figg down while on his racing bike. Meanwhile, Madeleine had drawn twenty more pictures, read all of her books three times each, memorized all the messages from the box and copied them carefully in her journal, just in case, and taught herself how to sew.

Madeleine was not very glad that school was over, to be honest. Now there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who came over every day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid and sense Dudley was the biggest and stupidest, he was naturally their leader. They were all happy to join in on Dudley's favourite pastime: Potter–hunting.

Dudley, at least, had been raised not to hit girls, even his cousin, so on the rare occasions when they caught Madeleine, they would usually push her down and laugh, pull at her long hair, or, occasionally, kick her.

Most of the time, however, they couldn't catch Madeleine at all, a fact which made the young girl very smug indeed. Still, she spent most of her time out of the house, wandering the neighbourhood, going to parks, and looking through nearby stores. Part of this was because Madeleine loved wearing her new clothes in public. For the first time in her life, she felt very confident. The box was proof that her parents cared about her greatly – and were probably very smart, sense they made the box look so much smaller than it was – and that meant that Madeleine had been right her whole life. Her parents hadn't been drunks or ne'er-do-wells; they were good people who go into an accident, simple as that.

And Madeleine rather thought the new clothes flattered her a bit.

She could see hope, come summer's end. Madeleine would be headed off secondary school at Stonewall High, and Dudley would be shipped away to Smelting's, Uncle Vernon's old school. For the first time in her life, Madeleine would not be with her cousin. Perhaps then, she thought, she might make a friend or two. After all, without Dudley to scare everyone nice off, she was at least a bit likeable, right?

When Dudley showed off his new uniform one night in July, Madeleine had to actively hold her hand to her mouth to stop from snickering. He wore a maroon tailcoat, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, which were used for hitting other children when the teachers weren't looking.

While Uncle Vernon gruffly declared it the proudest day of his life and Petunia sobbed, Madeleine prayed her ribs wouldn't crack from the pressure of holding back sniggers.

The day everything changed started out very normal. Madeleine made breakfast, Vernon read the paper, Dudley watched television while wolfing down food, and Petunia ate her breakfast in tiny, dainty bites.

They heard the click of the letter box and the flap of letters hitting the mat.

"Go get the post, Dudley." Vernon said gruffly from behind his paper.

"Make her get it!" Dudley wined.

"Get the mail, girl."

"Make Dudley get it." Madeleine countered.

"Smack 'er with your stick, Dudley."

Madeleine dodged the stick, stuck her tongue out at Dudley, and went to get the post. Three things lay on the doormat; a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and a letter for Madeleine.

Madeleine gasped aloud and nearly dropped the mail. Wait – a letter for _her_? She had never gotten any mail in her entire life! She had no friends, no relatives other than the Dursleys – who would send her something anyway? But yet here it was, addressed so plainly on thick yellow parchment that there could be no mistaking it:

_Miss M Potter_

_The Cupboard Under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

The envelope was heavy, and the address was written in emerald green ink. There was no stamp. Madeleine turned it over. On the back was a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter 'H'.

Madeleine couldn't believe her eyes. It was real! A letter, for her!

She grinned and began to open it, only to be interrupted by her uncle yelling, "What are you doing, girl? Checking for letter bombs?"

Madeleine jumped and quickly stuffed the letter in her sweater before rushing back into the kitchen.

"About time!" Vernon huffed, taking the bill and the post card. Madeleine sat down at the table, trying not to look suspicious.

"Oh, poor Marge is ill. Apparently she ate a funny whelk…." Uncle Vernon informed Aunt Petunia, who shook her head sympathetically.

Madeleine was barely able to focus enough to make herself eat her breakfast when all she really wanted to do was to get away to read her letter. She wasn't stupid enough to think that she could open it at the table and get away with it; the Dursleys would surely take it out of spite.

So she waited.

Finally, one by one, the Dursleys began to leave the table. Vernon went to work, Dudley went upstairs to blow up aliens on his computer, and finally, after clearing the table and receiving a nod from her aunt indicating she would wash this time, Madeleine went to her cupboard, forcing herself not to run.

Once inside, she pulled a string, turning on the only light in the room, a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, and pulled out her letter, opening it quickly. The message inside was also written in emerald ink, and read as follows:

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore _

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall _

_Deputy Headmistress_

It was as if the world stopped turning. Madeleine could hear the sound of the water in the kitchen as her aunt washed the dishes, and she could hear Dudley's triumphant cries as he killed things on his computer, but none of it registered. All she could think about was this letter.

Hogwarts was the school her mother had gone to. It was on one of the messages in her box. And maybe – maybe magic could explain all the strange things that happened to Madeleine. Her hair growing back, the glass disappearing, Uncle Vernon punching the wall, and all the other incidents, like when her teacher's hair had turned blue, or when she had somehow ended up on top of a building while being chased by Dudley's gang.

Numbly, Madeleine set the letter down and examined the next piece of paper. It seemed to be a supply list:

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _

_UNIFORM _

_First-year students will require: _

_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black) _

_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear _

_3. One pair of protective gloves(dragon hide or similar) _

_4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) _

_Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags. _

_COURSE BOOKS _

_All students should have a copy of each of the following: _

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)__ by Miranda Goshawk _

_A History of Magic__ by Bathilda Bagshot _

_Magical Waynery__ by Adalbert Waffling _

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration__ by Emeric Switch _

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi__ by Phyllida Spore _

_Magical Drafts and Potions__ by Arsenius Jigger _

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them__ by Newt Scamander _

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection__ by Quentin Trimble _

_OTHER EQUIPMENT _

_1 wand _

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) _

_1 set glass or crystal phials _

_1 telescope _

_1 set brass scales _

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad. _

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

"T–this…" Madeleine stammered, running her fingers over the letter. "This – this _can't_ be real!"

_But magic would explain the box, _a voice in her head pointed out. _Not to mention the snake you talked to._

And if it was fake, Madeleine realised, who would have sent it? Not the Dursleys, certainly – they had no sense of humour, and anyway hated magic too much to even joke about it. Who else? She had no friends, no other family….

At that moment, Madeleine heard an almost–familiar click. Her eyes immediately went to her box, and she saw that it was opening again. Madeleine gasped and climbed to her knees, leaning closer and hoping for answers from the strange chest.

For the first time in her life, answers came.

A pink envelope rose from the box, floating up and then towards Madeleine. She was too shocked to even move to grab it, but luckily she didn't have to. It slowly opened, and a letter slid out, unfolded itself, and – here, Madeleine had to hold back a shriek – _began to speak_.

"My dearest daughter," it began, in a soft, kind voice that made bursts of nostalgia appear in Madeleine's mind, "if you are reading – or, rather, listening – to this letter, that means your father and I are gone. This letter was to appear the day you received your Hogwarts letter, to explain to you a few things, in case you haven't heard them yet.

"Firstly, you are a witch. As in, wands and broomsticks and cauldrons. Hogwarts, where both I and your father went, is the best school in Europe for young witches and wizards. Your tuition for this school was paid in full by us when you were born, just in case. At Hogwarts, you can learn about magic and how to better control it and use it. It's wonderful there – a large beautiful castle that becomes like a second home to you. I miss it greatly.

"I don't know where you were taken if your father and I were killed, but my first assumption is that you're living with your aunt and uncle, my sister Petunia and her husband, since they are your only family. If so, I hope you are happy and that they're treating you very well. However, I doubt they have told you about who you really are, about your heritage and your past, so I will tell you now.

"If your father and I are dead, it means we were murdered by a very dark wizard, a man named Voldemort. Most people in the wizarding world call him You Know Who or He Who Must Not Be Named. You see, he rose to power a few years before you were born, and he is very, very powerful now. Hopefully by the time you hear this, he will be gone. Once Voldemort targeted someone, there was no hope, and that's probably why you are listening to this now. For some reason, he targeted you. My only hope is that your father and I are able to save you.

"Madeleine, don't ever feel like it's your fault we were killed. Part of being a parent – being a person, really – is willingness to die for your children or someone you love. Please always remember that we love you very much, and that no matter what you will make us proud.

"In a few days, someone from Hogwarts, a teacher, will come and explain more to you, then take you to get your school things. The place you will buy them is called Diagon Alley. It's in London, and the entrance in through a pub called The Leaky Cauldron, which is next to Madam Louis's Hat Emporium. The key on your charm bracelet opens your vault at the wizard bank, Gringotts, which is run by goblins, and you'll use that to get your money. Just remember to keep an open mind, and remember it can always get stranger in the wizarding world.

"I love you, my dear, and I hope you are safe and happy. With all affection, your mother."

It was silent in the cupboard for nearly three minutes. Madeleine couldn't even hear the sink running or Dudley's computer game anymore over the rush of blood in her own ears.

"A bolt from the blue." Madeleine mumbled, reaching out to grab the letter from midair and looking over it. It was the only thing she could think of to say that accurately described how she was feeling.

The letter, written in the same curly script as the notes, said exactly what the voice – her mother's voice, Madeleine reminded herself – had read out. She could hear in echoing in her mind as she re–read the letter over and over again.

Magic _was _real. If her mother said so, it must be true. And all this about a Dark Lord – Madeleine _knew _that scar hadn't come from a car crash! He probably tried to kill her as well….but what stopped him from finishing it?

However, Madeleine couldn't focus on that. She was slowly realising how much of a lie her life had been up until now. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon obviously knew about all that – that must have been why they got so angry when she did strange things! So why didn't they tell her? Or at least not lie to her about it?

The more Madeleine thought about all this, the angrier she became. She held the letter in her hands, shaking from fury, and didn't even notice that her knickknacks on the wall were shaking, or that the light bulb above her was flickering. Upstairs, Dudley cursed as his computer switched off, then was forced to dive from his chair when it suddenly flew off the desk towards his face. In the kitchen, Aunt Petunia shrieked as the food mixer and the kettle both went off.

The door to Madeleine's cupboard flew open, and she slowly stepped out, still looking at her mother's letter and holding her Hogwarts letter in the other hand. All the lights in the house were now flickering as she walked unhurriedly to the kitchen, her eyes still on her letter. Aunt Petunia gasped as the kitchen door opened of its own accord, then her eyes grew wide when she took in what was held in her niece's hands.

"Oh no…" Petunia said, her hand on her chest. Madeleine looked up at her, her face frighteningly blank.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said calmly – too calmly.

"No – no, you can't be," Petunia stammered, seeming to almost be talking to herself. "Everything else was just a coincidence. You're not – you're not like her, no…"

"Why did you lie to me?!" Madeleine cried out. A glass on the table exploded, and Petunia flinched. "Car crash, you said! They were _murdered_ and you couldn't be bothered to tell me?!" Madeleine was angrier than she had ever been in her life, and Petunia looked more frightened than she had ever been before.

"All this time – and I was starting to believe maybe I _was_ a freak," Madeleine spat, taking a step closer to her aunt. "But I'm not! I'm a witch! And all these years you've hated me for it, hurt me for it, as if it was something I could control!"

Madeleine was crying tears of anger now.

"You could if you tried!" Petunia suddenly shrieked, making Madeleine jump. "Lily could control it! You could stop being one if you wanted to! That's why I took you in! I thought – I thought I could help you, make you normal, so that you wouldn't have to go off to _that place _just like my sister and her freakish husband–"

"MY FATHER WAS NOT A FREAK!" Madeleine screamed, and to Petunia's horror, she saw that her niece was staring to glow slightly, like a flashlight that's almost out of battery. "HE WAS A GOOD MAN! He cared about me – I know it! I have proof! Just because he and my mother could do magic doesn't mean they were freaks! For all I know, wizards and witches came first and _you're _the freak! You and Dudley and Uncle Vernon and everyone like you!"

Petunia was shaking in fright now as Madeleine slowly began to hover a few inches off the ground. The young girl didn't seem to notice.

"My mother's letter told me that someone is coming from the school in a few days to tell me more, and there's nothing you can do to stop that!" Madeleine continued. "And I'm going to go to Hogwarts – it's already paid for and everything! And I'm going to be _great_. I'll show all of you."

"THE HELL YOU WILL!" roared a voice behind Madeleine. Startled, she lost her concentration and landed back on the floor. The lights stopped flickering, and the kettle and food shredder turned off. Madeleine turned to see Uncle Vernon in the doorway, redder that he had ever been, glaring at her. Behind him, cowering behind the railing on the stairs, was Dudley. For once, however, no one paid him any mind.

"I TOOK YOU IN ON THE CONDITION THAT WE COULD GET THAT WEIRD STUFF OUT OF YOU!" Vernon yelled, advancing on his niece. "Stomp it out, just as Petunia's mother and father should have done with _Lily_," he spat her name as if he was talking about Hitler. "I thought we could turn you into a normal citizen, but I was wrong. Well, it's too late to return your ungrateful hide, but I can tell you one thing–" Here he leaned closer to Madeleine, so much so that she could smell his breath. "_They won't ever find you._ Now. Give. Me. Those._ Letters_."

"No!" Madeleine said immediately, but Vernon had been ready for that.

A slap across the girl's face sent her to the floor, hard enough to send stars across her vision, and the letters were snatched from her grip.

"No!" Madeleine yelled as Vernon crossed to the fireplace. "Give them back! You can't do that, they're mine!"

Sneering, Uncle Vernon tossed the letters into the fireplace before Madeleine could even stand up. The Hogwarts letter immediately crumpled and burned, but Lily's letter stopped in midair above the flames. As Madeleine, Vernon, and Petunia watched, it rose up in the air and floated through the dining room and back to Madeleine in the kitchen. Quickly, she snatched it out of the air and pocketed it.

"W–well never mind that," Vernon said after a shock–filled minute. One of his eyes was twitching slightly. "At least the post from that freakish school it gone. Might have had a bug in it, you know. Could be tracking us. But they can't track us if it was burned up!" Vernon was now pulling chunks out of his moustache, grinning in a rather creepy way. Dudley had wandered into the kitchen in time to see the envelope floating, and was now cowering behind his mother.

"Be we're still leaving. Just in case." Vernon continued, beginning to pace the room. "Not sure where to yet – most important thing is that we get out before they find us…yes…" he turned to the others in the room. "All of you, go pack. _Now. _Just some clothes. You have five minutes."

Petunia, Dudley, and Madeleine simply stared at him.

"NOW!" Vernon roared. Everyone jumped and ran from the room immediately. Vernon had never yelled at Petunia and Dudley before – he must either really mean business, or have completely lost his mind.

Soon everyone was rushing through the house, stuffing things in bags and trying to avoid Vernon. Madeleine snagged a duffle bag from the upstairs closet, and had no problem getting all her most prized things in her mother's chest – it _must h_ave been magical; it seemed to be bottomless – then wrapped the chest with her striped comforter (you never knew when you would need a blanket, after all), stuffed it all in the bag, and she was ready.

Madeleine had a plan. She wasn't going to wait for the teacher to come – for once, she was going to do things for herself. As soon as she got the chance, she would make her way to London and get all her things herself. After all, her mother's letter told her how to do so.

Ten minutes later they were in the car and speeding towards the motorway. Dudley, to Madeleine's secret joy, had been smacked1 'round the head by his father for holding everyone up while he tried to pack his television and computer.

They drove and drove and drove. No one spoke. Madeleine was curled up against the window, her bag clutched in her arms, reading her mother's letter again. Dudley was sniffling, and Petunia was gnawing on her lip nervously. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a few minutes, mumbling, "Shake 'em off…" when he did so.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day, and Madeleine was endlessly grateful that she had finished her breakfast that morning. By evening, Dudley was sobbing. He had missed television programmes _and _he was hungry. Madeleine nearly felt bad for him, but then recalled all the times she had gone two or three days with nothing, and couldn't help but smirk a bit.

At last, Uncle Vernon stopped outside a rundown hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Madeleine shared a room with two small beds and mould on the walls. Dudley fell asleep quickly, but Madeleine stayed awake the whole night, sitting on the windowsill and alternating between reading her books and staring down at the cars, wondering about many, many things.

Breakfast next morning was stale cereal and tinned tomatoes on toast. It wasn't bad, considering, and Madeleine ate all she could. When they finished, Vernon shuffled them back into the car and they were off again.

"Wouldn't it, er, just be easier to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly a few hours later. Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, however, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully, late that afternoon. For once, Madeleine thought, Dudley had made a decent observation. This time Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Dudley shivered. Madeleine rubbed her arms.

"It's Monday," He told his mother grumpily. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a _television."_

Monday. This reminded Madeleine of something. If it _was _Monday – and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week, because of television – then tomorrow, Tuesday, was her eleventh birthday. Of course, her birthdays were never exactly fun, but still, you weren't eleven every day….

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He carried a long, thin package, and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked him what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" He said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside. Madeleine shivered and wished she had put on her jacket. Uncle Vernon pointed out at a miserable shack on a rock out in the sea. It was freezing in the boat; icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks. Halfway cross, they were soaking wet. The sea water burned their eyes. It seemed like hours until they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms: a living room, containing the empty fireplace, a sofa, and a battered wooden table. The other room was a bedroom with single bed and two side tables.

Uncle Vernon's 'rations' turned out to be a bag of chips and a banana each. He tried to start a fire, but the empty chip bags just smoked and shrivelled up. This didn't dampen Vernon's mood, however. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Madeleine agreed, but it didn't make her feel better at all. Frankly, she was surprised Uncle Vernon hadn't pushed her out of the boat halfway across the sea just to get rid of her.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Madeleine was so glad that she brought her thick striped blanket she could cry.

She curled up under it, happily considering that she was probably warmer than Dudley, and carefully set the alarm on Dudley's wristwatch, which was on his fat wrist, hanging off the sofa. She set it for four am, and grinned at her own cleverness.

She couldn't wait to join the wizarding world.


	3. The Journey To Diagon Alley

**Thanks to everyone who alerted and favourited! What do you think of the changes I've made? Anyone have any ideas for this story? I'll do almost anything; I like adding new subplots to stories, it gives it extra dimension.**

**Also, I'm in the market for a beta - let me know if you're interested!**

**_Thank you to Penny is wise for being my first reviewer. _  
**

* * *

CHAPTER THE THIRD: The Journey to Diagon Alley

The alarm rang as promised, and Madeleine silenced it quickly. Dudley grunted and turned over, but otherwise the shack was silent. The storm outside had stopped; though it was nowhere near light, Madeleine could tell that the weather was calm and pleasant outside. The shack was cool, but not too cold any longer. Quickly, Madeleine dressed in one of her mother's old outfits – an A–line dress with long sleeves, coloured red-orange, with a thick, long yellow bow and a wide white collar – made sure she had all her things, and sneaked out of the shack.

The rocks outside weren't slippery anymore, so it was much easier to navigate her way to the boat. Grinning at the thought of the Dursleys being trapped on the island, she climbed in the boat and pushed it off into the sea. It was easier than she had expected to row to the shore, and Madeleine was very glad the storm had calmed down. Once there, she hiked through the sparse woods for a barely a minute before she was passing the Dursley's car. Getting an idea, Madeleine doubled back, opened the thankfully unlocked car, and picked up the loose change and the random pound here and there out of the door pockets and between the seats. She didn't want to walk all the way to London, after all.

Just about a mile down the street was a tube station. They had been closer to town than Madeleine thought. One ticket to London was £5.30, and she just had enough. Soon, she was sitting on the tube and speeding towards the city. There were only two other people on – not surprising at such an early hour – and neither paid Madeleine any mind. She re–read her mother's letter to make sure she knew what to do, and wondered idly if the Dursleys were awake yet.

Soon the train stopped, and the young girl hopped off with her things. Madeleine had never been to London before, and she found herself glad that it was early. It was already crowded now; she couldn't imagine what it might be like in another three hours.

Guessing that this 'Leaky Cauldron' pub her mom had mentioned in the letter wouldn't be known by the average person, she found the nearest telephone book and looked up the place next door – Madam Louis's Book Emporium. That was only a few blocks away on Charring Cross Road, and as Madeleine grew closer, she felt herself getting more and more excited. She hardly felt the weight of her bag on her shoulder, and found herself fingering the key on her bracelet. How much had her parents left her? Was wizard money the same as normal money?

Before she had time to really consider any of this, she was in front of the book store. And, just as her mother had said, the pub was next door.

A small, grubby sign proclaimed it THE LEAKY CAULDRON. Madeleine noticed that the people who passed it didn't really seem to see it – was that magic as well? Perhaps you couldn't see the place unless you knew about it?

Madeleine was surprised to find that the pub was open, and cautiously stepped inside. There were three women sitting at a table in the corner eating breakfast, and a wizened old man behind the bar, scrubbing with a filthy rag. Seeing no other option, Madeleine approached him.

"Excuse me…" Madeleine began. The mad looked at her, waiting for her to continue. "Erm – I'm looking for Diagon Alley…"

She didn't want to say anything like 'I'm a witch' or 'where can I buy a wand?' because that would probably just get her carted off to the loony bin if this man wasn't actually a wizard. Thankfully, he seemed to be, judging by the way he grinned at her toothlessly and nodded towards the back door.

"Jus' this way, Miss," he said, "I'll help you get back there."

He stepped around the bar and led her through the door and outside. Madeleine nearly expected to see dragons and people soaring about on broomsticks beyond the door, but instead she saw –

A yard containing a rubbish bin.

"Shopping for your Hogwarts supplies, then?" the man asked as he walked over to one of the walls fencing in the yard.

"Er…yes…" Madeleine said, wondering what in the world he was going to do and how it could possibly help her get her school things.

"I'm Tom, by the way," the bartender continued. "Should have introduced myself earlier." He reached out and shook her hand.

"I'm Madeleine Potter. It's very nice to meet you." Madeleine replied politely.

The man gasped, stumbling back against the wall as if he'd seen a ghost.

"What?" Madeleine asked, glancing behind her.

"Bless my soul – you're really Madeleine Potter?" Tom said in a soft, almost worshipful voice.

"Yes…" she answered, confused.

"Welcome back Miss Potter!" he cried joyously, grabbing her hand in both of his and shaking it yet again. "I'd always hoped I'd meet you one day!"

"Er…thanks?" Madeleine replied, her shock making the words a question.

The man turned to the wall and quickly tapped it with a long stick. Madeleine actually shrieked as the wall folded in on itself, the bricks reshaping and twisting until an archway was formed. Beyond it was a cobbled street with quite a few people wandering about.

"Need any help getting around the alley, Miss?" he asked eagerly. "Any directions at all?"

"Um…well, if you could tell me where Gringotts bank is–"

"Right over there Miss!" he said, rushing forward and pointing down the alley to a white building far down the street that dwarfed everything else.

"Thank you!" Madeleine said, and waved shyly at Tom, who grinned brightly before going back inside.

The young girl stepped into the alleyway, and as she walked she tried to look everywhere at once. There was a store that sold cauldrons, a store that advertised broom sticks and supplies for something called 'Quidditch', a store filled with owls, and many other things, some of which looked normal, like a bookstore and a knickknack shop, and some that Madeleine couldn't even name. Though she wanted to explore all the stores right away, she knew she should get her money first. For all she knew, she could only afford the bare essentials – there was no use going and falling in love with something she had no money to buy.

Soon, she was in front of the bank. Madeleine passed through a set of bronze doors, and then another set of silver on the inside. Looking around curiously, Madeleine noticed an inscription on the silver doors of the bank:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Madeleine shivered slightly.

Inside the bank, the floor was paved with marble, and long counters stretched on either side. Strange creatures sat behind the desks, scribbling on papers or speaking with witches and wizards. Realising belatedly that these must be goblins, Madeleine nervously approached one of the counters, wringing her hands.

"Yes?" the goblin said pointedly.

"Er – I uh – need to make a withdrawal?" Madeleine stammered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a key?"

"Oh! Yes!" Madeleine said, pulling the key off her bracelet and hanging it to the goblin. He examined it closely, nodded, handed it back to her, and then called, "Griphook!"

Another one of the creatures appeared.

"Please take Miss Potter to her vault." The first instructed, and the other nodded.

"Follow me," he commanded, and led Madeleine through one of the doors behind the counter.

It was dark, and they descended a few dozen stairs before coming to a tunnel lit sparsely by torches. Madeleine was extremely nervous – here she was in the dark hundreds of feet under London with some type of extraordinary creature. When had her life gotten this strange?

In the middle of the tunnel was a small cart on a rail, somewhat like one would have in a mine. Madeleine climbed in, the goblin got in the front, and soon they were zooming through the passageways. Madeleine absolutely loved it; it was like a roller coaster, or even like flying if she closed her eyes. At first, Madeleine tried to remember which way they were going, just for fun (left, right, right, right fork, left, down, right, down, left, left, right, up, middle fork, right...), but soon it became impossible – which, Madeleine realised, was probably the point. However, she loved the ride. They passed over things like underground lakes, caves full of stalactites and stalagmites, and once Madeleine was sure she saw a burst of flame down one end of a passageway.

"Vault 687." The goblin announced after several minutes, stopping the car. He stepped out with Madeleine right behind them, and opened the giant vault door with Madeleine's key.

The girl gasped. Inside were piles upon piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins.

"Is – is all this really mine?" she asked no one in particular.

"Of course," the goblin sniffed. "It's your vault, is it not?"

So Madeleine scooped as many coins as she could into her mother's old purse, noting that it didn't seem to gain any weight or even get full as quickly as she thought it should. Soon, Madeleine and the goblin were back in the cart and zooming to the main bank room.

When Madeleine clambered out in the tunnel, it occurred to her that she should thank the creature for helping her, and so she did. He stared at her blankly for a moment, as if it had never heard such a thing, and then nodded curtly and led her back up the stairs.

Though she had been underground for less than fifteen minutes, Madeleine was happy to be back in the sunlight. It was around nine by now, she realised, looking down at her watch, and there were many more people in the streets now. Alerted to the fact that she hadn't eaten yet by her stomach (and hardly for the entire past week), she glanced around and noticed what looked like a restaurant just down the street from her.

Soon, Madeleine was tucking in to full English Breakfast, complete with baked beans, bangers, eggs, ham, tomatoes, toast, chips, mushrooms, a cup of tea, and something she assumed was orange juice but turned out to be pumpkin juice, which was apparently a Wizarding World thing. At first, Madeleine hated the stuff, but it grew on her quickly and she drank two large glasses. It was all delicious, but when the waitress came to pay and asked for a galleon twenty, Madeleine pulled out her new wizard money and simply stared at it. Frustrated, the woman snapped that it was one of the gold ones and twenty of the silver ones, which Madeleine handed over quickly, blushing.

Grumbling that she couldn't be expected to know everything, Madeleine re–shouldered her bags and began walking down the street, reading through her supply list as she did. The first store she saw was called Florish and Blotts, which she could see sold books, and Madeleine decided to get her school books first and ventured inside.

She must have been in there for three or four hours. Her school books were found quickly, but then she began to look at other things. It started when Madeleine realised she didn't know much about Wizarding World history, and so she began reading things like _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _and _Great Wizards and Witches of the Twentieth Century._ To her absolute astonishment, _she_ was mentioned in both of these books. Apparently, the 'Voldemort' her mother had mentioned had been destroyed the day he killed her parents, and that happened to have occurred right after he tried – and failed – to kill her. The Killing Curse, which had killed countless wizards and witches before, had no affect on Madeleine – unless you counted the scar on her forehead. She was the first person to have survived it. Add that to Voldemort's disappearance right after he attempted to kill her, and it all added up. That explained why Tom back at The Leaky Cauldron had acted so strange when he learned her name – apparently, she was quite famous in the Wizarding World.

After this sank in, Madeleine continued reading. She learned about the wizarding sport called Quidditch in a book called _Quidditch Through The Ages_, which sounded very fun and was played on broomsticks, and all about Hogwarts and its four houses in _Hogwarts, A History. _

Soon, Madeleine managed to force herself to leave, toting her new school books, plus a few additions for background reading. The next shop she saw was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Guessing that she could probably get her school uniform there, Madeleine entered.

The shop put her in mind of a wedding dress store, only instead of white gowns hanging all over, there were robes of all colours and designs. In the middle of the room were four podiums, two of which were currently occupied. A boy stood on the one to the right, with a pale, pointed face, white–blond hair slicked carefully back, and a sneer on his face. A girl was next to him, and she had long brown hair, green eyes, tan skin, and rather large lips and ears.

"Hello dear!" called a woman who was currently pinning the girl's robes. Madeleine assumed this was Madam Malkin. "Hogwarts as well, then?"

Madeleine nodded.

"Come over here, then, we'll get you sorted!" the woman said cheerfully, and Madeleine stepped onto the podium next to the girl. Madam Malkin draped a robe over the girl, then stepped into the back, mumbling about more pins.

"Hello," the girl next to Madeleine said softly, holding out a hand. "I'm Tracey. Tracey Davis. Are you starting Hogwarts this year as well?"

"Yeah," Madeleine answered, shaking Tracey's hand with a warm smile. "I'm Madeleine Potter, nice to meet you."

The girl gasped. The boy stared. From the back, they could hear a loud CRASH and a mumbled oath.

"What?" Madeleine asked, confused for a moment, then she remembered what she had just read and blushed slightly. She wasn't used to being noticed at all – being flat–out _famous _would be something to get used to indeed.

"N–nothing!" Tracey said politely, though she was still staring strangely at Madeleine.

"I'm Malfoy, by the way." The boy suddenly piped up, shouldering Tracey out of the way and seizing Madeleine's hand. With her eyebrows raised, the young girl shook back, wondering if he was purposefully being rude or if it was accidental. "Draco Malfoy."

Madeleine caught Tracey rolling her eyes behind Malfoy's back, and hid her laughter with a cough.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy continued, abandoning his stool entirely and climbing up onto the one beside Madeleine. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first–years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one anyway and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Madeleine was strongly reminded of Dudley, and she didn't like it. This boy was speaking as if he was the prince of the world, and frankly she thought he was a royal brat. She glanced over at Tracey and saw that her nose was wrinkled with disgust just like Madeleine's was. That made her feel better.

"Have _you _got your own broom?" Malfoy continued.

"Not yet." Madeleine said. She didn't plan to buy one until she was allowed, but the boy didn't need to know this.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No." Madeleine said. She hadn't had the chance yet, of course, but she hoped there would be lessons at Hogwarts. Even if she couldn't play on the house team, she would still love to fly on a broomstick and try out the different positions.

"Well I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

Madeleine really thought about this question. She knew from the history books she had read at Florish and Blotts that her parents had been in Gryffindor, the house of the brave and loyal, but she didn't know if she would be as well. She was brave when she had to be, yes. Sometimes very much so, like when she stood up to Dudley's gang and to Uncle Vernon. She had never had anyone to be loyal to, but if she had any friends she would definitely die for them if need be. Hufflepuff, she had read in _Hogwarts, A History, _was for the just and hard–working. Madeleine thought that probably applied to her as well, since she hated injustice and always applied herself to anything important to her. Ravenclaw was for the quick and witty, and Madeleine was plenty bright. Slytherin was for the cunning and ambitious, and Madeleine was certainly both. She had many things in life she was determined to accomplish, and the list grew and changed every day. She wouldn't actually _kill_ to achieve what she wanted a lot, but she would do rather underhanded things if she absolutely had to.

Meanwhile, Malfoy was looking at her pointedly.

"Oh, well – I really don't know." Madeleine finally answered. "I mean, they all sound great to me. I think I'd fit in in any of them, personally."

Malfoy stared at her for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Really?" he cried. "You wouldn't mind being in _Hufflepuff?_ Merlin, I think I'd leave if they put me with that load of idiots! You ask me, Slytherin's the only decent house. _Perhaps _Ravenclaw."

Madeleine glared at the boy.

"Well, no one _did _ask you, did they?" she said angrily. "And who are you to decide that Hufflepuffs are all 'idiots'? You can't possibly know every person who was ever in that house! You don't get to just _decide _which houses are 'acceptable'! Did the queen die and make you the ruler of the world?"

Malfoy spluttered. Tracey, behind him, chuckled. He turned to her, a glare on his face.

"Scoff all you want, Davis, but it won't make you any less of a Mudblood."

Both Tracey and Madam Malkin, who was now pinning Madeleine's robes, gasped, their eyes wide as if the arrogant boy had just sworn a blue streak.

"I won't have that type of language in my shop, do you hear?" Madam Malkin said sternly to Malfoy, shaking her finger at him. Malfoy simply smirked. Madeleine could see Tracey's eyes tearing up, though the other girl tried to hide it by pretending to examine her robe sleeve. Madeleine had no idea what 'Mudblood' meant, but she could tell it was very bad. She wasn't going to let Malfoy get away with this.

"Aww, hit a nerve there, did I?" he said to Tracey cruelly, chuckling. At this, Madeleine could hold her tongue no longer.

"Look, you." Madeleine said, stepping off of her stool and going to stand right in front of Malfoy, getting close enough to his face that he nearly flinched back. "I don't know what 'Mudblood' was supposed to mean, but whatever it is, at least she isn't an _ass_."

The boy spluttered, as if he couldn't believe she had dared to talk to him that way. Before he could form words, Madam Malkin gruffly declared him finished, packed up his new robes for him, and he paid before leaving with his purchases.

Once the door had closed, Tracey Davis turned to Madeleine with a smile on her face.

"Thanks for that," she said. "I hate that boy; he's horrible."

"Agreed." Madeleine said. She hesitated for a moment, then added, "What did…that word mean?"

Tracey looked confused for a moment, then said, "Oh! That's right! You were raised by Muggles, right?"

Madeleine raised her eyebrows.

"Come again?" she said.

"Muggle is our word for non–magic people." Tracey explained. "And...well, Mudblood is a really nasty, offensive term for a witch or wizard who had Muggles in their bloodline, or who is Muggle–born."

"I see," said Madeleine, nodding. "Are you…er – Muggle born, then?"

Tracey shook her head. "No, but my mother was. The Malfoy family makes a big deal out of blood 'purity'; _Draco _always brings it up when I see him."

"That's horrible!" Madeleine said angrily. "What does it matter if you had non–magic people in your family? Does it affect how you do magic or anything?"

"My mum and dad say it doesn't," Tracey answered, wincing as Madam Malkin stuck her with one of the pins. "But some people think so." She glared in the direction of the door. It was quiet for a moment, before Tracey brightened slightly and said, "So who are you here with? I hear the people who are Muggle–raised have a teacher who comes from Hogwarts to take them to get their school things."

Before Madeleine could answer, however, Madam Malkin declared Tracey finished, and two adults entered the shop.

"Finished, dear?" the woman asked Tracey.

"Yes mum." Tracey answered, climbing off the stool. While her parents paid, she spoke to Madeleine.

"I guess I'll see you on September first," she said, then added shyly, "Would you like to sit with me on the train?"

"Sure!" Madeleine said gratefully, beaming. She bid Tracey goodbye, and the other girl and her parents left the shop. Soon Madeleine was done as well, and she was yet again staring at the strange wizard money. Luckily, Madam Malkin was helpful. She exclaimed that the bronze ones were Knuts, the silvers were Sickles, and the gold ones were called Galleons.

"There are seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. In other words, a Galleon equals seventeen Sickles, which equals four hundred and ninety-three Knuts. Understand?"

"I think so," Madeleine said, picking out some coins and handing them to her. "Is that right?"

"Perfect!" Madam Malkin answered. Madeleine took her things and left the shop, smiling at the thought of having a new friend. Twenty minutes later found Madeleine exiting the apothecary, walking down the street with her robes, her cauldron, a set of scales, a brass telescope, basic potions ingredients, and dragon hide gloves. Now, all that was left was her wand, which she had been looking forward to the most.

But then Madeleine was sidetracked by a loud meowing from one of the shops. It was a magical creature store, and contained a number of strange animals, but what caught her eye was a very large cat sitting on the window sill. The woman behind the counter in the back was helping another customer, so Madeleine shrugged and entered, reaching her hand out to the cat. It looked from her fingers, to her, and back at her fingers, before sniffing them. The cat seemed to contemplate something for a moment, then nudged Madeleine's hand and began rubbing against it, like he or she had deemed her acceptable to touch. Madeleine grinned; she had wanted a cat since she was young…

_And really, what's to stop me from getting him? _She thought, scratching the cat behind the ears. _After all, the Hogwarts letter said cats are allowed…_

Ten minutes later, Madeleine was carrying a large meowing crate along with her other purchases, beaming and excited – it was her first pet, after all. The cat's name was Athena, according to the shop owner, and apparently she hated almost everyone. She seemed glad to be rid of her.

Athena was a very big, long–haired calico. Mostly black and orange with bushy fur, bright green eyes, and a black nose, she was apparently one–fourth Kneezle. Madeleine had no idea what that meant, but she was sure it would be in one of her school books, and resolved to look that night.

A promising place for wands was called Ollivander's, which had apparently been around since 382 BC. When Madeleine opened the door, a tinkling bell sounded somewhere inside. It was a small place, and she quickly put her new school things and Athena down on the single chair in the room, cautiously approaching the counter. Behind it she could see rows and rows of shelving with little narrow boxes stacked on them. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled; it was like even the air in the shop tingled with magic.

"Good afternoon," said a voice behind Madeleine. She jumped slightly and turned to see an old man with large pale eyes.

"Hello…" Madeleine said nervously, watching the mad as he nodded and stepped behind the counter.

"Ah yes. Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Madeleine Potter." Did everyone here know who she was? "You look so much like your mother. It seems like only yesterday she was in here buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Ollivander leaned closer to her. Madeleine wished he would blink; his eyes gave her the heebie-jeebies.

"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more powerful and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it, but it's really the wand that choices the wizard, of course."

Ollivander was even closer now; he and Madeleine were nearly nose–to–nose.

"And that's where…"

He raised one spindly finger to touch the scar on Madeleine forehead.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the one that did it," he continued softly. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful. And in the wrong hands…well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

He shook his head, then (to Madeleine's relief) pulled a long tape measure from his pocket and asked Madeleine which hand was her wand arm. She answered that she was left–handed, and he instructed her to hold out that arm. Ollivander proceeded to measure her shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round her head. As Ollivander measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feather, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And, of course, you will never get such good results with another's wand as with your own."

Suddenly, Madeleine realised that the tape measure, which was measuring between her eyebrows, was doing this on its own. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do." He said, and the tape measure crumpled in a heap on the floor. "Right then, Miss Potter, try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just give it a wave and see."

Madeleine took the wand and, feeling rather silly, waved it a bit, but Ollivander snatched it from her almost at once and handed her another. That one didn't work, and neither did the one after that, or the one after that. The pile of used wands on the floor was growing, but Ollivander just seemed delighted.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere. I wonder, now…yes, why not? Unusual combination, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple…"

Madeleine took the wand with trepidation. She was surprised to feel a sudden warmth in her fingers. Her confidence growing slightly, she swished the wand and a stream of green and gold sparks shot from the end like fireworks. Madeleine beamed, and Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed. Oh, very good! Well, well…how curious…how very curious indeed…"

"Sorry…but, what's curious?" Madeleine asked as Ollivander began wrapping her wand in brown paper.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Potter," he said slowly, and Madeleine was rather impressed. "Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather – just one other. It is curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar."

Madeleine gaped.

"Curious how these things happen," Ollivander continued. The wand chooses the wizard, remember. It's not always clear why. But, I think it is clear that we should expect great things from you, Miss Potter. After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."

Still mulling over Ollivander's words, Madeleine located a store in Diagon Alley that exchanged wizard money for pounds, and got enough that she wouldn't have to worry about getting home to the Dursleys and would have some emergency funds in case she needed to leave again. Soon, she was on a train back to Surrey, feeling grateful that she had already bought her school trunk (which was green and gold, with her initials stamped on it), because all of her things (except Athena, naturally) fit inside it easily.

The train ride seemed far too fast. Madeleine was starting to worry about what she was going to say to the Dursleys. Were they even home yet? If not, what would she do? Break in? Sit on the porch until they came back? And how mad would they be about her leaving, not to mention the fact that she took the boat?

_Well, at least I have my wand now, _Madeleine thought. _Hogwarts, A History_ had said that it was illegal to use magic outside school before age seventeen, but if Madeleine feared for her life (which had happened before at Privet Drive), she wouldn't hesitate. It didn't matter that she didn't know any spells yet; just shooting those fireworks at her uncle would give her time to get away if need be.

It was a relatively short walk from the tube station to Privet Drive, though Madeleine had never been to the station before today. However, she was familiar with the neighbourhood from all her walks to get away from the Dursleys. Her arms ached by the time she got to Number 4, and Athena meowed loudly every time she stumbled or adjusted her grip.

When she got to the Dursley's house, Madeleine had to gather her courage, because their car was in the drive. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself she was a witch, she slowly opened the door.

The house was silent. No noise from the television, no sounds of Aunt Petunia cooking dinner, no murmur of Vernon complaining about this or that. Madeleine had only heard the house this quiet in the dead of night.

She was immediately suspicious.

The first place she looked was the living room, which was right off the hallway, and the mystery was suddenly solved.

The Dursleys, all looking petrified, were sitting squished together on the sofa, while across from them on an armchair, sipping tea from Petunia's best cup calmly, was a woman whom Madeleine immediately thought must be a witch. She was wearing a green pointed hat and a tartan robe, and looked stern but kind. The woman was the first to see Madeleine, and immediately stood up. The Dursleys flinched and Madeleine bit her lip, wondering if she was in trouble for something.

"Hello, Miss Potter," the woman said, shaking Madeleine's hand politely. "I'm Professor McGonagall, one of the teachers at Hogwarts."

"Nice to meet you, professor," Madeleine said nervously. The woman nodded slowly, as if waiting for her to continue, and Madeleine blurted out, "I'm sorry I ran away, only they wouldn't let me wait for a teacher to get my school things and I didn't want to be unprepared, so I went to London myself and got everything and–"

McGonagall held up a hand to stop her.

"Not to worry, Miss Potter," she said kindly. "I believe I'm all caught up. You're not in any trouble – we understand that action was needed." She glared at Vernon, who let out a whimper. The professor beckoned Madeleine to sit in the other arm chair, and then took her original one before continuing. "I understand that you have been living in a closet?"

Madeleine nodded quickly. Were the Dursleys (or at least her uncle) about to get what was coming to them? She hoped so.

"Yes – the cupboard under the staircase." She said. "I've lived there my whole life."

"I see…" said McGonagall slowly, but whatever she was about to add was cut off by Uncle Vernon:

"Listen, you brat!" he snarled to Madeleine. "You should have been thankful we gave you anything! You should be worshipping the ground we walk on for all we've done for you, not ratting us out to some – _freak_!"

Madeleine, however, was not going to stand for this any longer. Before the professor, who looked furious, could protest, Madeleine turned to her and said, "He also hits me. When I do magic on accident. And I do most of the cooking and cleaning, and if I do anything wrong or do magic, they lock me in the cupboard without food or water, sometimes for days and even weeks."

Uncle Vernon looked horrified. Petunia looked…almost like she was sorry. Dudley was simply shaking uncontrollably. Professor McGonagall looked like she was prepared to breath fire.

"_What_?" she hissed, standing and making her way slowly to the Dursleys. "You have been beating and starving this girl in addition to keeping her in a cupboard? Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in for this? The only thing this child is guilty of is _bad luck_. Bad luck that her parents died, and bad luck that she was stuck with you _horrible_ people!"

That day was the best of Madeleine's life so far. After yelling at the Dursleys for a good hour, McGonagall explained to her that she had to stay there for protection, but that she had a way to much certain that Madeleine wasn't treated horribly anymore. The woman pulled out her wand, pointed it at Aunt Petunia's tea cup, and turned it into what looked like a cuckoo clock.

"I'm going to attach this to the wall with what's called a Permanent Sticking Charm," McGonagall explained to Madeleine. "If anyone tampers with it or tries to remove it, it will send a message to the school and someone will be here right away." Here, she turned to the Dursleys. "If this girl is not at least reasonably happy, and if she is hungry or in pain for more than three hours, a message will be sent to the school and a witch or wizard will arrive to _take care _of you both." The Dursleys nodded frantically at her words, looking terrified. The professor turned to Madeleine with a smug smile on her face. "Now, if you need anything or if you are afraid, just press this bird here," she pointed to one of the sparrows on the clock face, "And someone will be in touch. Does that make you feel safer at all, girl?"

Madeleine nodded gratefully.

"Very well then," McGonagall said, standing up. "Now, here is your ticket for the Hogwarts express." She handed Madeleine an envelope. "It leaves on September the first at exactly eleven o'clock from King's Cross Station. When you arrive there, just find the barrier between platforms nine and ten and walk straight at it as fast as you can. You'll go right through."

"Okay," Madeleine said, taking the tickets. McGonagall turned back to the Dursleys.

"You are to take her to the station and make sure she gets there on time, or we'll come to get her, understand?"

The Dursleys nodded fearfully. At this point, the professor walked to the couch (Dudley and Vernon flinched) and whispered something into Aunt Petunia's ear. Petunia gaped for a moment, then nodded solemnly, and the witch bade Madeleine goodbye, telling her she'd she her soon, and left.

It was silent for a moment, the Petunia said, "Well, come along, dear. Let's get you a proper room."

For a moment, Madeleine stared, assuming her aunt was talking to Dudley. When the woman gestured to her, however, Madeleine simply nodded and followed with her new things. Soon, a dumbstruck Madeleine was carrying her things upstairs behind her aunt. Petunia gave Madeleine what was usually Aunt Marge's room, saying that a girl should have a nice room, not a nasty place like Dudley's second bedroom and murmuring that Marge didn't come over much anyway.

The room had white panelled walls and wood floors. It contained a desk, two small dressers, a bookshelf, and a full bed, which Petunia striped, putting the linens and blankets in the closet, and re–dressed with white sheets, then washed Madeleine's striped blanket and pillow for her. Together they arranged the furniture to Madeleine's liking, and she found herself laughing and talking with her aunt as if they were close. She wondered what the professor said to Petunia – it certainly seemed to have made her feel much happier. Petunia loved Athena, and apparently it was returned, because the cat climbed out of her crate and climbed up Petunia's sweater the moment she saw her.

That night found Petunia and Madeleine making a late dinner together after finishing the young girl's room. Dudley and Vernon hardly spoke at all; Dudley was watching television and seemed to be back to normal, and Vernon just appeared to be pretending Madeleine wasn't there at all. She was perfectly alright with this.

Petunia explained to Madeleine after dinner that she should feel free to use the television – but mind she didn't turn it up too loudly – get food from the refrigerator – but mind she didn't make a mess – and to use the bathroom as much as she pleased. Madeleine couldn't believe her ears. After McGonagall talked to them, she expected to be completely ignored at best – she didn't expect for her aunt to treat her like – well, like an aunt _should_.

Once Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were in bed, Madeleine started to decorate her room properly. She was too happy to sleep; everything that had happened in the past few days was more than she had ever hoped for. Getting her Hogwarts letter, the letter from her mother, buying her school things and Athena, making her first friend, and now her aunt being nice to her _and _her own room? It was almost like a miracle.

Well, whatever it was, Madeleine decided, it had started when she learned about having magic. So that must mean that magic was lucky – _very _lucky.


End file.
